Dari Bay charts a more focused course on ‘Surprise Wish’

In many ways, new Dari Bay album Surprise Wish (Double Double Whammy) exists at a point of transition, singer and songwriter Zack James penning impressionistic lyrics that suggest a deeper exploration of the person he once was and the one he hopes in time to be. Witness “Video,” built on chunky drums and fuzzed out guitar, on which the musician professes a desire to “believe in the latest version, ’cause I don’t want to do it all again.” 

“I was thinking about how my experiences shaped me, and about how I have friends who are better at addressing that, which made me feel a little bit emotionally behind on that kind of thing,” the Burlington, Vermont-based James said by phone ahead of his band’s early show at Ace of Cups on Saturday, Aug. 8, supported by Columbus’ Villagerrrr. “And that’s something I would say I hadn’t done before this record, just going into the vault and thinking about some of those core memories that are hazy and distant but were profoundly impactful, for better or worse.”

At various points in our conversation, James describes the record as having “a coming-of-age aspect to it” and a “post-Covid essence,” awakened to the potential of future years following a stretch in which things felt more unsteady. This feel bleeds over into the music, which reins in some of Dari Bay’s more experimental early tendencies, James and Co. delivering a comparatively taught rock record that incorporates punchy alt-rock songs (“The Joke”) and hazier turns that glide along on burnished guitars (“How Can You Tell”). 

“I try not thinking too much about itl, but it’s trying things out, having a really small idea and then sort of blowing it up, and then I think going back and forth more dramatically between different sounds until slowly the back and forth gets smaller and less dramatic,” James said. “And that has led to a more-focused path, if that makes sense.”

Some of these early career musical mood swings were rooted in an inherent restlessness that James has always carried. As he has moved out of his teens and into his 20s, however, he allowed that this trait has lessened somewhat, introducing a sense of reflection that he said he “didn’t have in [him]” when he recorded the first Dari Bay album, Longest Day of the Year, at age 19. “I think at that point I was just figuring out how to write songs,” he continued, “and with Surprise Wish I’m a little bit more aware of myself as a person.”

There also exists within Surprise Wish an inherent gravity toward the natural world, James singing of broad blue skies, ringing mountains, and the pleasures to be gained from listening to the thunder while sprawled out in the summer grass. Contrast this with how he depicts cities on “Bet on the Feeling,” which closes on the line, “Urban decay, city’s full of gray.”

“I’m from a very rural place … and when I was a kid, I totally didn’t get it, and I didn’t understand at all why cities existed,” said James, whose stance has been significantly softened by his experiences on tour in more recent years. “But even so, I still get this feeling when we leave the city and drive back to Vermont, where it’s like my muscles relax and settle down.”

The musician traced other aspects of this environmental pull to a growing want to experience his surroundings firsthand rather than burying his face in a screen. “So I turn and face the hollow sky,” the musician sings on the churning, propulsive “We’re Gonna Be Okay.” “It’s like I never look up anymore.”

“I think that’s a big thing on the album, for sure. It’s a big world out there, and we need to remind ourselves of that,” James said.

Other connections have emerged more naturally with increased distance from recording sessions, the musician gaining a better perspective on the issues he was wrangling with at the time and emerging with a more focused intent in terms of how he approaches the act of creation. 

“When I started out, I didn’t think that much about being an actual musician,” said James, describing his initial decision to write and record as “a default position” that stemmed from being raised by parents who played. “But in recent years … I’ve seen the good music can do for people and communities. I’ve seen how it can bring people together. And it feels like something I can do to leave an extremely small but positive mark on the world, or at least on my world.”